


Epilogue

by lachatblanche



Series: Dollhouse AU [41]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, M/M, Minor Character Death, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2013-09-13
Packaged: 2017-12-26 10:22:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lachatblanche/pseuds/lachatblanche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles takes a moment to consider how things came to be the way that they are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Epilogue

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to post this before I went off on holiday, so apologies in advance if the editing isn't up to scratch.
> 
> Otherwise - this is the very last installment of the Dollhouse AU. I hope you enjoy it.

_Three years later,_

The Dollhouse was burning.

Charles watched unmoved as the flames engulfed the building and he finally allowed himself to breathe out the sigh that he seemed to have been holding in for aeons. At that very same moment, he knew, similar operations were taking place all over the globe, all set in motion at the exact same moment and all done for the exact same reason.

Freedom.

Somewhere to his right, Phoenix – _‘Jean,’ she had smiled, squeezing his hand, ‘Jean Grey’_ – stood tall and proud, hand in hand with Scott Summers – Cyclops that was – whom they had picked up along the way after discovering that he had deliberately tracked down and infiltrated the Dollhouse in hopes of finding his younger brother, Alex Summers. Alex – or Havok, as they’d known him – was himself standing off to the side, somewhere close to his brother, watching grimly as the Dollhouse burned, his eyes hard and unforgiving and far too old for a boy his age.

Not for the first time, Charles experienced a momentary pang of regret that such youngsters had to be involved in the movement, for all that each and every one of them had volunteered of their own free will. The fight was not an easy one and they had all suffered for it – Alex more than most. He had only barely come to realise his feelings for his fellow Active, Darwin ( _Armando Muñoz,’ Charles remembered him introducing himself moments before bravely running off to divert the attention of the oncoming security team_ ), before he had lost him in a hail of gunfire followed quickly by an explosion that no one could have returned from. Alex had been nearly inconsolable after that, filled with such rage and grief that not even his brother had been able to talk him down from it. He had not remained physically unscathed either: Alex’s face was now marred by a large, deep scratch that stretched from the right side of his forehead down to the left side of his chin, barely missing his eyes and severing the line of his lips. He had been sewn back together with the utmost skill – it was truly surprising how many of the former Actives had medical and surgical expertise in their Programming backgrounds and they had all been very glad that Hank had found a way for them to retain these talents – but the scratch was still wildly obvious, marring Alex’s otherwise handsome face. Charles didn’t think that Alex cared very much about it, though. Between the wound and the loss of Darwin, the former seemed all but unimportant.

Charles shivered and turned away. He could not help but be selfishly glad that he hadn’t had much time to get to know Darwin before his death. He wasn’t sure if he would have been able to handle that. Alex was made of much stronger stuff than he was, he thought sadly. Charles didn’t know what he would do if he ever lost someone that dear to his heart the way that Alex had.

At that thought, Charles found himself instinctively casting a look back over his shoulder at the two men standing behind him. He could not help the sudden warmth that flooded his veins at the sight and he quickly turned away, swallowing, still confused by the reactions that they roused in him. He had come to care for both Logan Howlett and Erik Lehnsherr very much in the time that he had come to know them but the fierceness of their loyalty and dedication to him still frightened him at times. They were too earnest, too intense and he couldn’t for the life of him understand why they thought that he was worthy of such devotion. 

He didn’t allow himself to think on it overly much, if he could help it – not now, not while everything was still so new and fragile and uncertain. He feared that if he did – if he actually allowed himself to consider it all – then he would be forever unable to continue with them out of fear or distress or _something_ , and that was unacceptable. The fight, as he had to remind himself every day, always came first.

That did not mean that he chose to ignore their loyalty, however. Both Erik and Logan had done so much for him – for _all_ of them – and he wasn’t the only one to have seen this. Charles himself might have been at the forefront of the movement but Erik and Logan were both only a step behind him and they were only there because they chose to be so. They had both done so much for the cause and Charles wondered every day how he could ever repay them for the sacrifices and the pain that they had endured in his name. Because, much as he wished otherwise, he had no illusions about it – both Logan and Erik _had_ suffered and it _had_ all been in his name.

He grimaced at the thought and allowed his gaze to slide around towards them, his eyes immediately catching theirs. He smiled at them then, slowly and sadly, and watched as both Erik and Logan’s faces immediately softened. He forced himself to hold that gaze and tried not to let his expression falter. They would need to talk, the three of them, and it would have to be sometime soon. There hadn’t been time for it before this and he had been putting it off for as long as he could but he couldn’t ignore the tension between them for much longer. The three of them needed to talk and so talk they would. Charles just wished that he knew what it was that he was going to say.

He turned away again, letting out a sigh and crossing his arms over his chest. He kept his expression calm but inside he felt small and afraid, helpless in the midst of something that he had no way of controlling. It frightened him, somehow, almost as much as the threat of the Dollhouse. Not for the first time he felt a pang of longing for his sister, and he found himself yearning for the days when they used to tell each other everything, when they were never apart for more than a few days at a time. The thought was a painful one and he tried not to linger over it more than was necessary. He was never able to stifle it for very long, however, and this time was no different.

‘Any word from Raven?’ he asked lightly, aiming the question over his shoulder and trying his best not to sound too anxious.

‘Not since this morning,’ Erik’s voice was a low rumble from behind him and Charles felt his eyes flutter shut when Erik took a step closer towards him, his arm coming to brush against Charles’s shoulder. ‘She sent word that her side was all set and that everything was going according to plan.’ He paused and raised an eyebrow at Charles. ‘She also quite emphatically stated that you ought not to worry.’

Logan let out a snort at that. ‘Yeah, like that’s gonna happen. Blondie’s not exactly known for her subtlety, you know. We’ll be lucky if she doesn’t bring down the Great goddamn Wall of China while she’s out there.’

Charles found his lips curling up in an involuntary smile, something that happened very often when he was around Logan. ‘Yes, I suppose that Raven can be a bit … overenthusiastic,’ he admitted, smiling wryly. The smile faded quickly, however, and Charles found his amusement waning with it. ‘I just – I wish she hadn’t gone so far away from here …’ he said softly, his voice trailing off.

There was an indelicate snort from the side. ‘I hope that you aren’t thinking of blaming _me_ for that.’

Charles’s lips twitched once again and he shook his head in fond exasperation. ‘You must admit that you are _somewhat_ responsible, Emma,’ he said mildly, turning around to look at the former Dollhouse Director and recently-elected Chairman of the Shaw Foundation. ‘As much as it pains me to say it, the two of you really can’t stand the sight of each other.’

‘With good reason,’ Emma said dryly, flicking her blonde hair over her shoulder. Three years had barely changed her: she was still as gloriously intimidating and unflappable as always and her dress-sense still ran towards the ice-white end of the spectrum. ‘The bitch tries to stab me every time that we’re in the same building.’

Charles frowned at that but his expression eased as both Erik and Logan chuckled at the statement. ‘Well,’ he said instead, turning once more and looking Emma in the eye with a fond little smile, ‘I, for one, am very glad that she hasn’t succeeded.’

Emma held his eyes for a moment before snorting once again. ‘ _Yet_ ,’ she muttered ominously, tossing her hair proudly before turning back to stare at the flame-engulfed building ahead of her, her expression once more blank and closed-off.

Charles watched her with sympathy. As much as the Dollhouse was a place that was loathed in equal amounts by all of them, Charles knew that there was still some small, secret place inside of Emma that regretted her actions even today. She had poured a good chunk of her life into the upkeep and management of the Dollhouse, after all, so it was hardly surprising that she felt that way. Being elected Chairman of the Shaw Foundation couldn’t have made the decision any easier, and Charles had often seen a few of the others look askance at Emma, as if wondering where it was that her loyalties truly lay. Charles, however, trusted her completely: as far as Emma was concerned, nothing had changed. The Dollhouse was still the Dollhouse and Emma was still Emma, and _she_ had been planning this moment for years. In fact, if one thought about it, the day’s victory was mostly hers. Charles had played a big part of it, yes, but he was under no illusions that they would have got anywhere without Emma.

She had, after all, been the one to come to him.

**…**

_Three years ago,_

‘I am in need of your help, Mr. Xavier.’

These words ran through Charles’s head as he followed Emma away from the Programming Room and into the chamber at the other end of the building. Frost had refused to say anything more on the subject before Charles had undergone a quick medical check-up (Charles would rather have gone without it, if he were honest: the boundless enthusiasm of his examiner had unnerved him more than a little) and the moment that it was finished she had immediately begun to lead him away from the Programming Room – ‘so that we can have a bit of privacy’, she had said vaguely, causing Charles’s examiner to flush and stammer – and so that was where Charles was now, sitting opposite Emma Frost in a sparsely-furnished room, waiting anxiously for her to speak.

It was a good thing that he had braced himself.

‘Sebastian Shaw is dead,’ Emma said bluntly, causing Charles to stare at her. ‘He died this very afternoon. I thought you should know.’

Charles took a moment to process this. A number of different thoughts and feelings had risen up inside of him at Emma’s words and he was almost horrified to find that the one overriding emotion present seemed to be that of relief. He wasn’t entirely sure why he would feel such a thing and this troubled him more than he cared to admit. He hadn’t liked Sebastian Shaw – more the opposite, if he was being truthful – but the sense of relief that he had experienced at the news of the man’s death was a bit more substantial than he had expected ... almost as if his subconscious knew something that he did not. He frowned and turned to Emma, his expression cautious. ‘Why are you telling me this?’ he asked uneasily, watching her closely.

If he’d hoped to learn anything from Frost’s expression then he would have failed, for Emma’s face remained perfectly calm and smooth. ‘I just thought that you ought to know,’ she said evenly, shrugging a shoulder. She then paused and Charles felt himself tense. ‘He is the reason why you are in here, after all. Oh,’ she said, blinking innocently at Charles’s wide-eyed stare. ‘Didn’t you know? He was very particular about it … he wanted you here really very badly. It was completely against protocol, you know – you weren’t at all on our radar before he pointed you out.’ She wrinkled her nose, as if in memory. ‘He was quite unbearable about it, too. He wouldn’t stop raging and threatening until we had brought you in. It wasn’t at all attractive.’ She frowned and looked at him. ‘I really thought that you knew,’ she murmured, and this time her tone was genuine.

Charles, who had been listening to her whilst sat frozen in horror, swallowed and shook his head, suddenly feeling sick. ‘No, I didn’t know,’ he said tightly. ‘Not for sure. It’s not as if I had any _time_ to think about it … I mean – I suspected, of course I did, it was hardly likely to be _entirely_ a coincidence, but-’ he shook his head, unable to go on.

‘Yes,’ Emma said softly, watching as Charles tried his best not to retch, ‘It is not as if Sebastian never was the most subtle of men. Ham-fisted and cruel, that was more his way.’

‘And you,’ Charles raised his eyes to hers, his gaze burning even as he repressed the urge to vomit, ‘You helped him. You knew that what he was doing was wrong but you still helped him. _You_ did this.’

Emma did not do anything so obvious as wince at the accusation but Charles nevertheless saw a flicker of _something_ in her eyes that showed him that she was not entirely without remorse. Even so, she made no move to apologise.

‘What could I have done?’ she asked instead, her tone eminently reasonable. ‘What would I have been able to do? Against Sebastian Shaw – I was powerless.’ She met his eyes, watching as he turned away in despair. ‘Now though,’ she said slowly, and Charles’s head lifted at her tone, his eyes suddenly alert. ‘ _Now_ , Mr. Xavier – now I am not powerless anymore.’

Charles’s eyes narrowed and he regarded Emma warily. ‘What exactly are you saying, Miss Frost?’ he asked suspiciously.

Emma smiled. ‘What I am saying, Mr. Xavier,’ she said, her lovely lips pulling back to reveal neat rows of pearl-like teeth, ‘Is that I want to bring this entire sordid, cankerous operation down to its knees and that I would very much like _your_ help to do it.’

**…**

Charles found himself smiling slightly as he recalled that conversation with Emma. It hadn’t been a very long one but it had nevertheless been incredibly profitable. Emma had initially been wary of making alliances but she had always known that bringing down the Dollhouse was not something that could be achieved single-handedly. She was playing a long-game and she needed someone who could see things her way, someone who could act with caution and deep-seated patience just as she could. She had not always had Charles in mind, she had told him quite readily, but the appearance of Erik on the scene, not to mention the advantage of Logan’s ever-growing devotion to him had made Charles appear a very attractive ally to her eyes.

That had been easy enough to explain. More difficult for Charles to understand was the question of just who exactly Logan and Erik actually _were_. Charles hadn’t been able to understand it then – he still wasn’t fully able to understand it _now_ – but somehow Emma had managed to tell him just enough to prepare Charles for meeting them.

‘I do trust them,’ she had added lightly, glancing down at her nails, ‘But I would dearly like to know your opinion on the matter. It wouldn’t do to bring them into our little operation without mutual agreement between us, and besides – I am very curious about what you will make of them both.’

It had, in the end, not taken Charles very long to assess either man and Emma had been able to add two more names to her list before the night was over. Hank McCoy and Moira MacTaggart had joined that list soon after, although Charles did not find this out until after he had Awakened for the second – and last – time.

Emma and Charles had then gone on to discuss their ideas on the recruitment of others to the cause and this was one of the issues that they had clashed about the most. Emma later admitted that one of the reasons that she had chosen Charles as an ally – apart from sheer convenience, she had hastened to add – was that she had identified in him a kindred spirit of sorts. She had found in him a keen and intelligent pragmatist, one who was not afraid to do whatever was necessary in the best interests of others – a trait that he shared with Emma. Where he differed from Emma, however, was in the fact that despite being a pragmatist, he also had an especially kind heart. Emma was not so short sighted that she had not realised this and, in the end, it was for this reason that she had made the decision to reach out to Charles. Emma was not one to be coy about her strengths but she was equally clear-sighted about her weaknesses. Their allies would not be wooed by coldness and calculation. She needed loyalty and warmth and compassion, and for that she needed Charles.

It had been easily agreed between them that the best way to work would be to go on as Emma had done all along – which is to say, in secret. That meant that Charles could not be freed from his contract before his time and that Emma would have to continue to work alone for as long as it took to convince others to join them. It also meant that they could not bring strangers into the fold: they had to deal with those who already knew about the Dollhouse and about the extent of the power that the Shaw Foundation held at its fingertips. And that meant approaching the other Actives. 

It had taken Charles more time than he would have liked to convince Emma that the Actives should only be asked to decide whether they wished to help or not after their contracts had expired. Emma had been all for waking the Actives mid-contract and asking them to choose their allegiance then and there but Charles had been firmly against this.

‘It isn’t right,’ he had said, shaking his head resolutely. ‘You cannot ask them this while they are still contracted to the House – they need to be able to choose _freely_. We have to wait until their contracts have expired and then and _only_ then can we ask them whether or not they want to join us.’

Emma had eventually agreed, albeit with some reluctance, and so when the time came that was what was done. As predicted, most of the newly-awakened Actives had abstained from joining the fight: they were simply glad that their contracts were finally over and they wanted nothing more than to forget that the whole experience had ever happened. These abstainers had their memories of the entire recruitment attempt wiped quickly and cleanly from their minds, courtesy of Hank, and were then immediately sent on their way.

A small number, however, had decided to stay behind and fight against the Dollhouse and these brave individuals, Charles thought with a fierce sort of pride, were the ones that were standing behind him now. These men and women were the ones that had seen and experienced what the Dollhouse could do and were unwilling to let it carry on any further. Each and every one of them – from Jean, Scott, Alex and Armando, all of whom had already been recruited by the time that Charles had finally Awakened, as well as several new recruits such as the strong-willed Anne-Marie and the sly Remy LeBeau (or Rogue and Gambit as he had once known them) – had deliberately and bravely chosen to stay on and fight and Charles could not feel prouder of them if he tried.

These former Actives were not their only allies, though. Raven had once again appeared in Charles’s life shortly after his Awakening and that had been a painful and tearful reunion that even now made Charles shake with unspent emotion. He had later pleaded with her to stay near him but Raven had refused, stating that she could not bear to be anywhere near either the House or Emma Frost. They had needed someone to go off and expand their network of rebels, so Charles had reluctantly allowed her to leave his side and wander away in search of other Dollhouses, but the decision had never sat well with him. He had only seen Raven a handful of times since that day but he could not stop himself from constantly worrying about her, despite the frequent assurances from both Erik and Logan that she was more than capable of looking after herself. 

They had been correct, of course – Raven had been extraordinarily successful in her recruitment and soon enough she had her own band of followers, the most notable of which was the violent and supremely deranged Wade Wilson (‘Deadpool, man, _Deadpool_ ,’ he had insisted in the only time that Charles had ever met him, after which Logan had hauled him away and had made him promise to stay away from that ‘goddamn batshit-crazy sonofabitch’), and that, apparently, had been a marriage made in heaven.

Charles sighed. If there was one thing that he regretted over the last year – and there were a number of things, he could say that much – it was that he and his sister had lost the closeness that they had previously shared. Things had changed between them – irrevocably, although Charles hated to admit it. He had lost something there, and the loss of it pained him greatly. He was not one to wallow for long, however, and in time he came to take great comfort in the fact that, although he no longer had his sister at his side, he was in fact very far from alone.

Logan, it turned out, had kept his promise. He had been there the day that Charles had Woken for the very last time, and so had Erik. It had taken Charles a while to get used to them – to the way they followed him at all times, the way their eyes were always upon him and to the way that their faces always filled with some strange, hidden emotion each time that he looked at them. At first it had made him extraordinarily uncomfortable and embarrassed but eventually the novelty had worn off on both sides and, as he came to know them and – more importantly, he felt – as they came to know _him_ , things slowly began to relax among them.

Almost a year had passed since then, and now, apart from Raven, he could not name two other people that he held closer to his own heart.

He sighed at the thought and for a moment he was revisited by the same doubts and fears that had been persecuting him ever since the day that he had been Awakened for the second time. He’d had half a mind to walk away from the Dollhouse then and the temptation had been even greater when he had seen Raven again, horrified and appalled at what had been done to her. Raven herself had wanted him as far away from the House as possible and she made it very clear that she found Charles’s reluctance baffling. She simply couldn’t understand why Charles wouldn’t come away with her at once.

‘You have given almost five years of your life to this place,’ she had told him bitterly, her eyes filled with pain. ‘Why would you want to give them anything more?’

It had taken Charles a long time to convince her that he was doing the right thing but eventually he had succeeded, although sometimes he wondered whether Raven had capitulated out of understanding or simply from sheer weariness.

‘I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I just walked away from this,’ he had told her quietly after they had argued for what seemed to be hours on end. He had seen a flicker of understanding in her eyes at that – a small, heartening glimpse of the old Raven, the one who had gone to march in peace protests and had broken into laboratories to free abused animals from their cages – and so he had pressed on. ‘I can’t just forget that this ever happened or try to pretend that the Dollhouse doesn’t exist. What’s happening here is wrong, Raven, you know that as well as I do. This - this is something that I _have_ to do – as much for my sake as for everyone else’s.’

Raven had understood him in the end and she had even agreed to help, much to Charles’s pleasure. He had been very distressed when Raven later revealed that, despite her agreement, she didn’t plan on staying.

‘I can’t be here, Charles,’ she had told him sadly, looking around her and shivering. ‘Not in this place. I will do what I can – of course I will – but not here. Never here.’

She had gone on to completely ignore any and all suggestions by Charles that she allow Dr. McCoy to take a look at her head in an attempt to help her and she had left soon after that conversation, taking only a moment to say goodbye. Charles did not hear from her again until some weeks later when she called to report back on the progress of her mission. Their relationship had followed the same pattern ever since.

Yes, Charles thought, grimacing to himself. That was his one regret. That he and his sister could never go back to the way that things used to be. Too much had happened and too much suffering had occurred. They still loved each other – of course they did – but things were different now and they had both come to accept this.

He sighed and slipped his hands into the pockets of his trousers. At his side he saw Erik angle himself towards him in concern and he almost smiled at that, before he turned his eyes once again to the sight before him.

The Dollhouse was almost completely gone now, the fire having reduced the building to a mere skeleton that looked to be standing on its last legs. The initial explosions had helped a great deal as well, but the fire had been the final measure to ensure that the House was completely and irrevocably destroyed.

He closed his eyes and prayed that the other groups had been equally as thorough. The buildings held too much that could be dangerous in the wrong hands and they could not risk so much as a one piece of paper or one intact Memory Disk making its way into the world. The Dollhouses needed to be destroyed and even Charles, pacifist though he was, recognised the necessity of that.

Emma had been right. He was, just as she had said, a pragmatist.

It would take time before they could truly be victorious, he knew. They may have struck an enormous blow to Dollhouses the world over but they had not been able to take down all of them. They were too few in number for that and the Dollhouse was, even whilst hobbled, more powerful than they could ever fathom. It was now even more vital that they acted with steadiness and caution. The Shaw Foundation would be aware of them now; they would know that they were under threat and they would not be slow to retaliate.

As if she had read his mind, Emma chose that moment to speak. 

‘Our work is not over yet,’ she said grimly, staring at the smouldering ruins of the Dollhouse. ‘We have taken down the major bases of operation but there are still Houses dotted around the globe. We cannot allow them to continue.’

‘And we won’t,’ Erik said calmly as he stepped forward next to Charles, his jaw set in determination and his gaze unwavering as he looked out across the city. ‘We will not stop until every last House is destroyed. We will take them all down – one by one if we have to. We _will_.’ He looked down at Charles then, his face full of fierce affection. ‘Together.’

Charles smiled at him, unable to do anything else. A strong surge of hope had begun thrumming powerfully through his veins, stirring something deep inside him, and he turned to look at Logan, who met his eyes steadily.

‘Like Lehnsherr said,’ Logan said gruffly, coming to stand at Charles’s other side and giving his arm a gentle nudge. ‘We won’t be stopping any time soon. We’ll take them all down, Chuck. All of them. Together.’

Charles felt a slow, soft smile pull at the corner of his lips. Somewhere in the background he was aware of Emma rolling her eyes and turning away with a disgusted look on her face but right now he didn’t care. For the first time in a long while he felt strong and free and strangely, wildly happy.

‘Yes,’ he said, reaching down and taking hold of Erik and Logan’s hands in his own. ‘Yes, I really think we will.’ He stared out over the bustling city around them and smiled, his eyes wide and blue and shining. ‘We will win this. Together.’

And, with joined hands, they stood and watched the Dollhouse burn.

**Author's Note:**

> THE END.
> 
>  
> 
> That's all, folks! Thank you so much to each and every one of you that read and kudos-ed and commented on this, particularly those of you who have been with me right from the start and have waited with astonishing patience for me to finally wrap this whole series up. You are all wonderful and the story would not be even a tenth as long as it is without you (it was meant to be between 5k and 10k and now it stands at well over 130k, and I still don't know how it happened).
> 
> I plan to compile this whole series into one, multi-chaptered post in the near future to make it easier to read - I know the series format must have been confusing at times, but thank you all for bearing with me! Hopefully I will think of a better title for the series than 'Dollhouse AU' but if I don't, then that's what the post will be called :)
> 
> On a final note, I just wanted to say that I have had an amazing time writing this series and I hope that you have had an equally good time reading it! Thank you again! xx


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